Keeping Up With The Holmes'
by Cryingravens13
Summary: Multi-chapter A series of one up's between Mycroft and Sherlock. It starts with brotherly concern and turns into petty revenge. Perhaps eventual Johnlock? Who knows. Rated M for swearing and adult situations. Discussed drug use, but nothing graphic. I don't own Sherlock.
1. Art thou mad Brother?

Mycroft's phone buzzed harshly in his pocket. He frowned and pulled out.

"What-"

"YOU DULLARD!"

Mycroft pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment and sighed before he set it back against his head.

"Hello to you too, brother. What is troubling-"

"WHAT'S TROUBLING ME?! You idiot! You sent Lestrade to my home."

"Last time I was in you had a bag of heroin in the flower pot."

"It's been long gone Mycroft! Long gone! He's ruining everything! My apartment is in shambles. There are MONTHS worth of experiments that are gone. THEY ARE RUINED! All because of you!"

"So you're not denying the heroin then?"

"Don't be stupid. I knew you saw it. Helen Keller could have deduced that much by the look on your face. I used it and haven't bought anymo- ANDERSON! DON'T TOUCH THAT SKULL!"

Mycroft waited for a moment, until his brother finished telling off Anderson, before he began to speak.

"I warned you the last time that I would inform DI Lestrade if I saw any more of that rubbish around your house."

"God, I can hear your fat jiggling over the phone! You always threaten, Mycroft!"

"This time I made good. Now, I am very busy. The detectives are doing their duty to the Crown. Try not to get arrested."

"I will get you back!"

Mycroft hung up the phone before, Sherlock even had the chance to finish his threat.

AN: Thank you so much for reading! Hurrah, I am back from the dead! Next chapter will be up in moments. No idea how long this will be, but it will be posted quickly so I don't get bored or lose flow. (see HTBH *sad face) Hope you all enjoyed! Please read and review!


	2. Revenge is sweet and not fattening

Mycroft Holmes was quite possibly the most dangerous man in Britain. He could wield just about any weapon, drive any car, and he had enough cunning to get through any dinner party without ever breaking a smile. If there was something he couldn't do, he simply spoke to Anthea and she could find him someone who could. Mycroft was not someone easily intimidated. That is until he pulled up to his flat and saw a sleek black Rolls sitting out front.

Mycroft had never exited a vehicle that quickly in his entire life. He had even been in cars with explosives on them and he managed to keep composure while he exited. He ran to his front door and threw it open.

Her hair was brushed into an immaculate bun and her clothes were pressed and perfect. She was sipping tea from Mycroft's finest china. Her ankles were crossed and she was the picture of elegant ease on Mycroft's couch. The hat she had worn was held by an gentleman that shook slightly from his old age.

Martha Holmes was not a woman to be kept waiting.

"Mother. This is unexpected." Mycroft said, straightening his suit coat and stepping further into the flat.

"Myc, my darling. It has been far too long. Hasn't it been Percival?"

"Yes, quite madam." The old butler said as he set the hat down on the coffee table and carefully moved about the living room. Percival was the Holmes' butler and had taught the boy a great many thing in his day. Unfortunately, now all he was good for was taking jackets and making tea. Bless his mother for keeping the old man around.

"It is very good to see you, Mum. May I ask what brings you around?" Mycroft said as he gingerly took a seat across from his mother.

The chair was stiff as he rarely entertained guests and if he did entertain it certainly wasn't in the living room. He made a note to get some worn leather chairs as he watched his mother stir her tea.

"Sherly called me. He told me some awful business about how you had fallen into some bad habits."

Mycroft scoffed, "Heavens mother. I am a grown man with a well respected job-"

"Your brother says that you haven't been eating and are addicted to amphetamines."

Mycroft paused just a moment, fear catching his very breath before he snorted a laugh.

"Of all the ludicrous-"

Mycroft stopped speaking when Percival upturned the drawer from his nightstand over the coffee table. His secret stash of Adderall, his many diet pills, and some left over painkillers fell out; littering the floor and the table top.

"You- you went through my things. Mother why did you-"

"You are my son. I am rather disappointed that you hid them in your nightstand top drawer. Myc, that's where you used to hide your dirty magazines. You are an adult now."

"I shouldn't need to hide anything. This is MY home. You just broke in here and-"

His mother tutted. "Don't make it sound so crass. I didn't break in. Sherly gave me the key."

"He what?"

"Sherly called and told me that you were engaging in some very risky behaviors. He asked that I come make sure his deductions weren't true. He met me outside an hour ago and gave me the key."

Mycroft felt his blood boil. This was all because he had Lestrade do a drugs bust.

"What are you doing with all those pills, Mycroft?" Martha asked, her eyes boring into his very being.

"I was having trouble concentrating, so a doctor gave me the Adderall. You have known for a while that I have troubles with my weight. I have tried many products and none have been to my liking. I simply haven't thrown them away as of yet."

"So you have been eating?"

Mycroft had lied to many people in his life. He had lied to terrorists, dictators, and even the crown itself. While he was an accomplished liar, Martha Holmes had raised him and knew his every tell. He was rightly fucked.

"I eat."

The woman gave a sickeningly sweet smile. "Good. I am glad to hear it, darling. Since you are clearly eating, how about we have dinner together? I am feeling rather peckish."

"Actually, I just-"

There was no such thing as telling Martha Holmes no.

She shot him a silencing smile that immediately told him she knew he was lying, but was ignoring it. Mycroft's jaw snapped shut and he stood to help his mother to the kitchen where she would, without a doubt, have a five course meal delivered to his house. As he woefully followed his mother to the kitchen for a painfully long dinner, Mycroft pulled out his phone and sent a text to his younger brother.

_I am going to have you drawn and quartered for this. How dare you help her rummage through my things. ~M_

_I didn't. Percival did. I merely gave her the key. ~S_

_I will have revenge for this. ~M_

_Enjoy dinner with Mummy. ~S_

AN: Thanks so much for reading! I picture Martha looking like Maggie Smith. Hope you all enjoyed it. The next chapter should be up in the very near future!


	3. Alas! Poor Yorick! I knew him Horatio

Sherlock had a bounce in his step and a song in his heart. Lestrade had given him a murder investigation and it was juicy. Nothing could possibly ruin his day.

He unlocked his flat and immediately the wind was let out of his sails.

"What are you doing?!" He all but whined as he rushed towards his mother and her five house cleaners.

"That's not a pleasant way to say hello to your mother." Martha said from her spot on the couch.

"Yes, Sorry. Hello. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He asked, trying to grab his bowl of tadpoles from one of the women .

"I'm here to help you clean up of course." His mother said in a very matter of fact tone as she sipped from her tea.

"Excuse me? Clean my- DON'T TOUCH THAT!" Sherlock walked into the kitchen to stop the cleaners from tampering with his work.

"Sherly, dear. That is a refrigerator. Food goes in it. I told them to throw out everything and sent Percival to get you some groceries."

"THAT WAS VALUABLE-"

His mother shot him a warning look that instantly stifled his protests. "You had a severed arm in your fridge and several sets of eyeballs. While I pay for this apartment, you will NOT be keeping such things next to your milk."

"Then I will simply stop drinking milk." Sherlock said with a huff as he flopped onto his well worn couch.

"Don't sulk, Sherly, it makes your handsome features rather unattractive. Now, I am putting an end to these ludicrous experiments. I didn't mind the ants and tadpoles, but I will not have you keeping body parts in the flat. The fact I should even have to say anything to you is absolutely preposterous."

"Then I will simply get my own flat."

His mother nodded for a moment then gave a cheeky grin. "What job will fund this apartment? You haven't ever had a steady job and no landlord would have you with that kind of track record."

"I could do it if I got a flatmate."

"Ah, yes. Who then? Are they going to allow you to keep parts acquired from Lord only knows where and be willing to pay everything?"

Sherlock sulked a bit more and allowed his mother to pin him to his place as his apartment was scrubbed from top to bottom. Sherlock's ability to deduce had been a gift from his mother. She was a genius, but fancied herself a housewife. Mores the pity, Sherlock often thought.

"Sherly, you shouldn't slouch. It'll give you back pains, you know."

Sherlock straightened slightly and stared into middle space for a moment. He had just started to look over his mother's demeanor to see if she had found his-

"I did find your heroin, Sherlock. I would appreciate it if you didn't stare at me like I was some monkey in a cage. I am sure you can think and talk at the same time."

"How did you-"

"You left it buried in the flour. Come now, Sherly. You have no food in your house, but a container of flour? It was too easy. It has been disposed of."

Sherlock frowned and slouched again and his frown deepened. The two listened to the sounds of the cleaners doing their jobs. Occasionally there would be a soft curse as an absent minded hand knocked into a chemical or found something unsavory.

"What about this skull, madam?" One of the cleaning women said as she held it up.

Martha looked once at her son and then back to the skull.

"That's fine for him to keep. You can clean under where you found it then replace it."

The cleaner nodded.

Sherlock turned when the door opened and saw Percival walking in with four men carrying bags.

"Oh, marvelous! Sherly, come with me and we will help Percival organize your freshly cleaned kitchen."

Sherlock took out his phone and grunted at his mother as she stood to meet the butler.

_THEY TOOK EVERYTHING YOU DAMN KNOB! ~S_

_Oh, good. Your apartment could have used a good cleaning. ~M_

_I had months of work and data saved. It's all gone now and you don't even give a damn. ~S_

_I have had to endure dinners with Mother once a week ever since you opened your bloody mouth. ~M_

_Good you fatty! She found my heroin. Now she will send some damned doctor to the house to help fix something that isn't broken! This is all because you couldn't keep your damned opinions to yourself! ~S_

_Sounds lovely. Have a nice evening! ~M_

AN: Ch3! Thank you for reading! I have never written in this fandom so bear with me. Hopefully I'm not botching this too badly. I don't have a cover image yet, if anyone can recommend one I would greatly appreciate it! Thanks again!


	4. Protecting Mycroft's Virtue

It wasn't often that Mycroft brought someone home. He usually only stayed at his flat when he had no obligations and Mycroft Holmes always had obligations. Tonight, however, he found himself in pleasant company and things simply seemed to work out perfectly on his date (as Anthea would call it).

He and his guest were locked at the lips and hips. Each were grinding into one another and making very desperate noises. Mycroft stopped kissing long enough to fish out his keys and unlock his main door.

Once they were moved out of his breezeway the two were pressed against the front door, yet again heatedly making out. Mycroft laced his fingers into his companions hair and toed off his shoes.

That was when he heard a throat clear behind him. Immediately, he broke free of the kiss and turned to face the greatest threat he could think of; His mother.

"Mother!"

"Reminds me of when you were seventeen." She acknowledged, taking a sip of her tea.

"What in Heaven's name are you doing here at this hour?"

"I am watching the telly before bed, Myc. How rude of you, you haven't even introduced your guest."

"What do you mean before you go to bed?"

"Don't you remember? The house is being repainted and since your phone has been acting up, I asked Sherly to message you to ask if I could stay. Family bonding is essential after all. He said you agreed, but wouldn't be back until late."

Mycroft was fuming. His phone wasn't acting up at all. He had simply told his mother that so she would stop pestering him with her new found ability to text (which was taught to her by Sherlock, naturally). Telling Sherlock this was a horrid idea. Apparently he was still upset about mother cleaning his apartment.

"Sorry, mother. You startled me is all. It's no problem." Mycroft said, sliding into his perfect diplomatic demeanor.

"Good. Now, you never introduced me to your guest."

Mycroft winced and turned to give a quick "sorry" face to his date.

"Mummy, this is DI Gregory Lestrade. Greg, this is my mother, Martha Holmes."

Lestrade stepped forward and offered his hand to her. "Pleasure to meet you Ma'am."

"A great pleasure. You seem worried that I will care about your sexuality. Rest assured, I don't mind at all. I have known about Mycroft since he was thirteen and looked at our gardener. He was quite smitten-"

"Mother! Please!"

"Oh, Myc. It's alright. I am sure Greg here understands. Tell you what, why don't you two go fetch yourselves a drink and we can discuss things further when you get back. I have a great many questions for you Gregory."

Lestrade followed the older Holmes to the kitchen.

"Damn Sherlock to all Hell! That damn bloody little-"

"Calm down, Mycroft. It's alright. Your Mum seems very nice, it's nice to get the "meet the parents" step out of the way. Some might say the third date is a little early, but I don't really mind."

"How did he find out? How did he know?"

Greg leaned against the counter. "I don't know. He knows we were seeing each other, he made sure to point that out to everyone that would listen. Anderson hasn't looked me in the eyes since the prick. I saw him earlier today and he badgered me for a bit but nothing-"

"That's how he knew. Damn him." Mycroft set his head against his hands.

"Sorry, I think I may be missing something."

"He deduced we'd be going out the little-" Mycroft clenched his fist and took a deep breath.

Mycroft shook his head and straightened up. "You don't need to stay. I understand if you think it's too soon-"

"It isn't. I am happy to meet your mum. I'll just leave earlier than planned and it might be a good idea to postpone-"

"Very right." Greg grabbed a tea tray and set some biscuits on it as he made his way back to the living room.

Mycroft pulled out his phone.

_You are a prick. You ruined my evening. ~M_

_Funny. I'd be more sorry if Mummy didn't send along doctors and therapists.~S_

_We rarely get the chance to go on a date and you spoiled it. You are a cunt. ~M_

_Such harsh language. I had just hoped that her arriving would have ruined your evening. To know that she cock-blocked you and Lestrade makes this day complete. ~S_

_Sod off. I will send her to go through your house again. ~M_

_She won't because I moved out of her apartment. She wouldn't dare go through John's things. Have a nice night and good luck on that diet! ~S_

AN: Thanks for reading! This is the last chapter for a little while. If you want more you can send along ideas or reviews. I would love to hear what people think so please feel free to review!


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